After the 'Nightmare'
by JediMagnet09
Summary: Right after the events of 'Nightmare', Sam finds himself hurting in more ways than one.  Dean is desperate to help, desperate to find answers.  But as things get more and more dangerous, the question arises: will it be enough to save his baby brother?
1. Chapter 1

Hey all! This fic idea was sent to me by hotshow and she asked me to write it for her. It's taken me forever, but I've finally gotten started! Please tell me what you think! :)

* * *

Sam sighed heavily, staring out the window at the scenery that flashed by. After the mess with Max and his family, Dean had pretty much shoved him in the car and took off as fast as he could coax his baby to go. As if distancing themselves from the poor kid would make everything else they had gone through go away too. _Like the waking visions. _

Sam leaned his aching head against the window, wincing with discomfort, then relaxing in relief, as the cool glass soothed him.

He could feel Dean's eyes on him. _First the nightmares, now visions, and...whatever the heck I did to free myself from the closet. _No matter how ashamed of it he was, he just couldn't seem to banish the fear that had settled deep in his mind. _What is happening to me? Is Dean going to have to hunt me too? Am I going to end up like Max – so messed up that my choice is either kill myself or have Dean put me down like some kind of animal or...supernatural creature? Could Dean even do that if it came to it? Oh gosh. _A perfect memory of Max shooting himself, his blood everywhere, his father suffocating, his uncle's blood staining the window as he was beheaded by was sure he was going to be sick. His vision wavered in front of him, blurring for a moment.

"Dean, pull over." His voice was hoarse and raw, strained.

"What?" Dean's voice was sharp with surprise and worry.

"Pull over!" he demanded.

Dean yanked the car to the side of the road just in time. Sam threw the door open, dropping to his knees beside the car, emptying his stomach of what little he had managed to keep down in the last few days onto the side of the road.

He became aware of Dean crouching beside him, rubbing soothing circles on his back, after a few minutes of painful heaving. He was wordlessly handed a water bottle to wash out his mouth and Sam felt a burst of gratitude fill him. _Whatever happens at least I have Dean._

"Sammy? Are you okay?"

Sam nodded, reluctantly accepting Dean's help standing up.

Dean hesitated before headed back to his side of the car. "Are you sure?"

Sam offered his big brother a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

_..._

At some point, Sam had fallen asleep. _How long was I asleep? It's freakin' dark outside. Where are we? _

"Hey, Dean, what time's'it?" he slurred as he shifted, starting to get up.

Dean sounded amused. "You've only been asleep for a couple of hours, princess. It's probably about 4."

Sam frowned. "Dean, it is so dark outside, how could it possibly be 4?"

The following silence was ominous.

"Sammy...it's perfectly light outside. The sun hasn't even begun to set yet."

Panic hit Sam violently, like a speeding freight train.

"Dean! Dean, I can't see. I can't see!"

The car was yanked over to the side of the road and a moment later, Sam felt Dean's hands on his face, turning it.

"Sammy. Sammy, calm down, deep breath, man. You're okay. You're okay. Deep breath. It's probably just some fluke."

Sam wondered who Dean was trying to convince.

"Dean, _I can't see!_"

"I know, kiddo. I know. I don't...nothing looks different." Dean sounded frustrated, his helplessness in the situation killing him.

"Dean, I can't see." Sam couldn't seem to get passed this fact, his whole body shaking.

"Whoa, Sammy, kiddo. It's okay. You're going into shock, you just need to calm down. We'll figure this out. We'll figure it out."

Sam felt Dean's pull on his body and a second later he was enwrapped in a hug that his older brother never would have given him except under these extreme circumstances. Despite that fact, it helped more than anything to calm Sam down.

He didn't even realize he was crying until Dean's thumb gently wiped the tears away from his cheeks.

Sam closed his useless eyes, biting back at the fear and panic when nothing was different at the change.

"Okay. Okay, Sammy. There has to be an explanation for this. We need to go see Bobby."

Sam nodded, opening his eyes again, then froze, his whole body going stiff.

"Sam? What is it? Sammy?"

"Dean, I...I think my vision is a little clearer. I can see some color, some light. Wait, yeah, it's...oh gosh, it's clearing up."

Dean offered Sam a relieved smile, but a single look into his big brother's eyes and Sam knew that Dean was freaked and worried. _Join the club._

"Okay. That was weird." Sam tried to go for nonchallant, attempting to regain some of his shredded dignity. _I freaking cried in front of him. Crap. He's never going to let me forget this. Well, once he gets over how freaky this was._

"Alright, Sammy. We're still going to head to Bobby's. Maybe he can figure out what the _heck_ that was."


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! I'm back on this story now, which will be my priority until I finish. After this I MAY be moving on to a new Stargate story (maybe - I have a couple of potential Supernatural stories I'm cooking up too), even though I haven't finished my other one. My muse has just decided to kick that story to the gutter and let it sit there. I know. It's irritating. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! Thanks so much for reading and PLEASE review! :)

* * *

Dean paced back and forth through Bobby's living room, agitated and restless.

"Dean, boy, sit down! You're makin' _me_ dizzy." Bobby finally demanded, gruff compassion audible in his voice. "I'm researching the best I can, but these things take time."

"It's either pace or start destroying things, Bobby." Dean replied briefly.

"Dean-"

"Sam was _blind_, Bobby! He was panicking, crying and relying on _me_ and I did _nothing_. _I didn't know what to do!_" Dean cried, sounding like he was in physical pain at his supposed failure.

"#$% it, Dean, you're only human! You can't fix every problem your brother faces!"

"It's my _job!"_

Bobby's reply was cut off as a horrid cry from Sam rang through the house.

"DEAN!"

Terror was clear in the tone, driving a stake through Dean's already suffering heart. He burst into movement, taking the stairs two at a time. He skid to a stop as he saw Sam, standing completely still in the middle of the hallway.

Sightless eyes roamed around frantically.

"Dean!" Sam called again and it snapped Dean out of his frozen moment of horror.

"Sammy? Sammy, I'm here, kiddo." Dean thought it was safe to approach now and quickly walked up to Sam, laying a gentle hand on Sam's arm, which had the kid jumping immediately.

It only took Sam a second to realize it was him and an instant later he was holding onto Dean like his life depended on it, his whole body shaking almost violently.

"I can't see. I can't see _again_." he managed.

Dean rubbed Sam's back gently. "Hey. Hey. It's okay. Bobby's researching, I'm sure this one will pass just like the last one. Deep breath. Deep breath. Let's go sit, uh, in the living room. Bobby probably won't mind the company."

Dean led Sam carefully down the stairs, his brother clinging to him frantically.

To Sam, each raised foot seemed like a step into the unknown and the relief of reaching each new step hit him hard again and again. His emotions were reeling, his senses spiraling out of his control. He could feel, smell, hear everything.

The feel of Dean's rough shirt fisted in his hands, the sturdy wooden steps under his feet.

The sound of the washer running in the background, Dean's soft footsteps, even Bobby flipping the pages of a book in the living room. His own harsh breathing, cars driving by outside.

The strong smell of dinner cooking in the oven. The ever present dusty ancient books that sat in huge stacks everywhere in Bobby's house. Dean's aftershave.

It was overwhelming, yet not enough. He just wanted to be able to see.

How could he be any help to Dean if he couldn't see? How could he avenge Jess without his sight?

A fresh wave of fear almost sent him to his knees, but Dean rubbed a gentle thumb over his wrist, seeming to sense the rising tension in his sibling and responding soothingly to it.

"Last step, Sam." Dean warned.

It was with relief that Dean helped Sam sit down on the couch. Bobby eyed them both sadly, looking up from the book he had been reading, researching from.

"Is it clearing up yet, Sam?" Dean asked softly a minute later.

Sam shook his head, still tense, eyes still darting around, like if he tried hard enough, _looked_ hard enough, his vision would return.

"Tell me a story, Sammy." Dean suddenly requested, looking for something, _anything_, to distract his distraught sibling.

Sam rolled his eyes. "A story? What kind of story?"

Dean shrugged, then remembered Sam couldn't see it with a wave of guilt. "I don't know. Any kind. A hunt you liked, if you actually _liked_ any, a favorite school story, best make-out story. Anything."

Sam threw an incredulous look Dean's way, surprising Dean by actually making it pretty close to his _actual_ face. "A story. Um...Did I tell you about the time Lucy in my tenth grade biology class tried to-" Sam suddenly cut off, eyes coming more into focus, narrowing. "Dean. Dean, I can see some colors." His voice was full of relief.

"Good! That's great, Sammy!" _It lasted twice as long this time as it did last time._

The knowledge twisted in Dean's head until he was sure he was going to be sick.

So, a Winchester through and through, he decided to ignore it.

"So what was that about Lucy from biology?"

Sam blushed. "Nothing, Dean."

...

The third time wasn't nearly as much of a surprise.

The fourth time was alarming because Sam had been in the shower at the time and very nearly gave himself a concussion trying to get _out_ of the shower.

The fifth time was almost the worst in Dean's opinion.

Sam called for him, but it wasn't with alarm or surprise. It was with despair. A resigned, pained, despair, that Dean hurt to see.

After that, Dean lost count.

It started to happen more often, last longer. Soon, they began thinking of it more like "the times when Sam can see" than "the times when Sam is blind".

Within about a week and a half, Bobby had found nothing and Sam was completely blind.

...

"Sam."

Dean hated his life sometimes. He really did.

"Sammy, come on, man."

Especially when he got in a fight with his now blind little brother who absolutely _refused_ to go see a doctor and wouldn't tell him why.

"Sammy."

And said little brother managed to get up the stairs and lock him out of their room.

Forcing him to listen to Sam trying to muffle the very soft, almost inaudible sounds of Sam crying.

"Sam. I promise I won't _make you _go to the doctor. You know I won't. I'm sorry I said I would. You know that's not my thing, kiddo. I didn't mean what I said, I promise."

He hated apologizing.

The sounds inside quieted for a moment.

But he hated Sam crying more.

Finally, the bed squeaked as Sam stood up. Another moment passed, then Sam opened the door. His face was dry, though his eyes were red.

Dean knew the signs, no matter how much he wished he didn't. Something about Sam was different now though. His eyes were harder.

That was familiar to Dean as well. Sam was stubborn as heck, just like their father.

_Great. Now what?_

...

It wasn't as bad as Dean was afraid it was going to be. It wasn't the "this is just a minor technical difficulty and thus we can ignore it until it goes away" that some part of him wanted from Sam, but it also wasn't "I'm emo and miserable and am going to go lie down in traffic now" that another part of him had been afraid of.

Despite the more frightening nature of this particular obstacle, Sam had finally gathered himself and decided to face it head on, just as he did with every other problem he had faced in his short life. And, like a dog with a bone, he refused to let go until he was darn well satisfied. Sam insisted it was time he learn to deal with his new problem.

It entailed getting to know every inch of Bobby's house. Sam wanted to be able to walk around by himself, which had been...heavily discouraged by Dean (if threatening to tie Sam to the couch if he started wandering _again_ counted as "heavily discouraged") from doing. He also had Dean wait _outside_ the bathroom now as he showered until he was sure he could do it without falling over. That had almost brought them to an argument (Dean didn't _want_ to be in the bathroom with Sam, but he was scared as heck that the kid was going to knock his head clean off his shoulders or...or heck he could-could start a fire or-or slip or_-or...),_ but Sam had won by shutting the bathroom door and locking it and declaring loudly that he was undressed and unless Dean wanted to see _that _he was going to have to wait outside.

Bobby hadn't said anything, but the look he gave Dean (it was rather useless on Sam) said it all.

Dean could handle Sam having a little independence. He got that. Especially from Sam. But he really didn't like how much the kid wanted to do by himself. Stairs seemed to be a major hazard, for one. Actually dressing himself was difficult, since he couldn't get everything on the right way the first time and Dean had had to subtly hint that Sam's clothes were on backward more than once.

Sam tried to go outside, but didn't do it often. Dean had blown a head gasket the first time he did it and though Sam didn't seem to be intimidated by Dean's rising anger, he did decide that he wouldn't go outside without at least telling someone (Bobby more likely than Dean, considering the whole "tie you to the couch" thing seemed to be back on the table).

Sam refused all and any help.

It didn't matter that he nearly slit his own throat when he shaved by himself.

It didn't matter that he nearly broke his legs falling down the stairs.

It didn't matter that he didn't eat breakfast anymore because no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't find all of the random things he needed for breakfast by himself.

It didn't matter that he cut his hand badly while washing dishes, having been unaware of the knife until it cut him.

Dean hated it. _I need to help, Sammy. __**Please**__ just let me help._

So when Sam hit his breaking point two days later, Dean couldn't exactly help his relief.

No matter how guilty he felt about the whole thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all! Here's the next chapter. I hope you all like it! Thanks for all the reviews and please keep it up! :)

* * *

The worst part of waking up (besides having to face another day) was waking up to darkness. It was like no matter how many lights he turned on, it was never _brighter_, there was never anything to see.

Sam was pretty sure that he was going to go mad if this lasted much longer.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He _didn't know_ how long this was going to last. It could _easily_ be permanent. Heck, they weren't even sure _what_ had caused it. Dean wanted to go to a doctor and see if there was a medical reason as opposed to a supernatural, but Sam had refused.

No freaking way.

Sam sighed, then paused when there was no responding comment from Dean, who was always nearby when Sam woke. Despite Sam's desire to do everything by himself, Dean still did what he could and Sam _did _appreciate everything Dean did to make his life easier. To make this less frightening.

"Dean?"

Just silence.

It was pressing, almost palpable silence. Hearing was his new primary sense and when there was nothing to hear...it was hard not to question his very existence.

_There was nothing to hear._

Sam felt a thrill of fear and managed to get to his feet, moving forward away from the bed a little.

"Dean!"

Still nothing and fear was becoming terror. Terror for himself, terror for his brother.

He was alone.

_Where was Dean?_

He was _alone_.

_Dean could be hurt...Dean could have been attacked...Dean could be d-... Oh please no._

Sam had never been more struck with his helplessness than he was right then. Dean could be feet away, lying helpless, or worse, dead, and Sam _wouldn't know_. There could be a demon in the hallway, watching him, waiting for him to make a move. Heck, waiting for him to try go down the stairs and give him a _push._ The supernatural world was full of creatures that moved silently, acted silently. For that matter, so was the human world (his brother being a good example of that).

Sam was helpless. And he was alone.

"DEAN!"

A strange buzzing filled his ears, the only sound he could hear his own harsh breathing, weird twin bangs echoing in his ears. His fists clenched in his sweats, trying to keep from crying or completely losing it.

If he hadn't already.

Sam didn't remember sliding to the floor and it wasn't until the sudden touch to his face that he realized the slight buzzing sound in his ear was Dean's voice, the twin bangs had been Dean dropping to his knees beside him.

"-okay, kiddo! You're okay. Just breathe slower, Sammy. Come on, man, I'm right here. You're okay. You're okay. Breathe slowly. Yeah, yeah, that's good, Sammy. Slowly. You're okay. I'm right here."

Dean had a hand on his chest and a hand cupping his cheek, his skin warm and calloused.

"I-I woke up and I-I c-couldn't hear y-you. I was a-alone." Sam was still too panicked to care that his voice was etched deeply with his own terror.

"I was outside with Bobby, Sam. I didn't think you'd wake up so soon, you looked _out, _man. You were exhausted. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. You're not alone, Sam. I'm sorry. I won't let you wake up alone again. I promise." Guilt filled Dean's voice and Sam placed a hand over Dean's on his chest, both giving and receiving comfort.

Something clicked for the youngest Winchester and an unexpected thought crossed his mind. _I've been alone for days. Dean was __**physically**__ here, but I've been dealing with all of this myself. I-I just don't know if I can anymore. I'm not making this situation any better by doing it alone. Dean's right. I'm exhausted._

...

Sam's terror-filled scare that morning seemed to have changed something for him.

Dean wasn't going to complain. He'd been surprised as heck when Sam had tentatively asked him to help him grab some clothes, and perhaps arrange them in a way that Sam wouldn't be confused as to which was the right side. He was even more surprised when Sam called him in after his shower and, though bright red and extremely embarrassed, asked him to help him practice shaving _without_ slitting his throat. They ate breakfast together and Sam followed Dean around the house instead of sitting on the couch or wandering alone. It seemed Sam couldn't stand to be alone anymore.

Dean didn't tease him for any of it. After all, it had been what he had wanted all along. A chance to help his baby brother.

Now he just had to get the kid to agree to a doctor's visit, 'cause Bobby had been searching forever now and had found nothing.

Dean didn't think they had any other choice.

He refused to just live with it or let it be.

...

He had managed to tick Sam off again. He was finding it easier and easier to do the longer Sam remained blind. He was trying hard to keep his patience, but as _awesome_ as he was, even he had his limits.

"_Why? _Crap, Sammy, this is ridiculous! You won't even given me a decent explanation of _why?_ What if they could fix it? Don't you want to see again?"

Dean winced. That was a low blow and he knew it.

Sam exploded accordingly. "CRAP, Dean, can't I just REFUSE to do something without having to EXPLAIN everything? It's MY choice and I say NO! Just _drop it!_"

"Give me _one_ good reason. Just _one_ and I will drop it! 'Cause so far nothing I've heard impresses me."

Sam blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm SCARED, okay? Is that good enough for you? I'm SCARED! I _know_ this is related to my visions. I _don't know _how I know, but I do. And what the heck am I supposed to tell a doctor, huh? Well, I see visions of people dying in gory and horrific ways and _that's _what's causing my blindness. Oh, who are those men in the white coats, that's a funny jacket, do I have to wear it?" Sam's tone was scathing, yet hurt and frightened and just _tired_.

_Perhaps I might have pushed him a bit hard. But I __**needed**__ to know this! Crap, Sammy._

"Do you really want that, Dean? You want me locked up as some nutcase for the rest of my life? Cause I'll tell you now, I can think of about a million things I would _rather_ do than spend eternity in an asylum."

Dean was silent for a moment. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, then held his hands up in a submissive gesture.

"Look, Sammy, I know you're panicked, dude. I know you're scared. Heck...I...I am too."

Dean wondered if Sam understood what that admission cost him.

"But you've got to think about this. Please. Think about it. For my sake, if not for yours."

That seemed to stop Sam in his tracks. He said nothing.

Dean sighed. "Just...thinks about it, okay? I'm gonna go see what Bobby's doing."

...

Sam walked slowly and carefully towards the sound of his brother and Bobby talking, having followed his brother there.

He wasn't quite sure what he thought now. He really didn't want to go to a doctor, but could he really tell Dean 'no' when Dean had actually _pleaded?_ He wasn't sure he could.

Suddenly, Dean's words came into sharp focus and Sam paused to listen.

"I'm just...I'm freaked, Bobby. I don't know what to do." The admission was almost inaudible it was so soft. "I know the kid's freaked. I mean, that's why he refuses to go. He's scared. And I get that. But...I don't know what else to do. I'm..._I can't help him. _...I can't _force_ him to go. Well, I could, but I'm sure you can picture how well that would go over."

There was a pause, then a sigh.

"I just wish he would get help."

Sam sighed, almost inaudibly.

_Ah, Dean. Crap. I..._ Sam pushed back his fear forcibly, swallowing hard. _Dean won't let that happen. I just have to trust him. Maybe they could help. Maybe he's right. _

With another deep sigh, Sam walked into the room.

"Okay. I'll go. But if I get thrown into a nuthouse, Dean, I'm telling them I learned everything I know from_ you_."


	4. Chapter 4

Hi! Here's the next chapter! There's just one or two more! Thanks for all the reviews, please enjoy!

Also, sorry this is so short. I had a basic plan of where to end the chapter and it came sooner than I realized it would.

* * *

The doctor looked puzzled to say the least. "I...I'll be honest, I've never seen anything like this."

Dean sighed.

The doctor hastened to continue. "I've contacted a few specialists, asked them to look around. I have a few friends, who are also doctors, trying to find _someone_ who might have heard of this. I'm not giving up at this stage. I'm just..." The doctor hesitated.

_This can't be good. _Dean barely restrained himself blowing out another aggravated breath. Sam was sitting in a room nearby. He was _alone_. Dean knew the doctor wanted to tell Dean the news first, but still... Dean was getting impatient.

"Perhaps...Perhaps your brother should speak to a psychologist. We have several here that are very good at what they do and perhaps they could help your brother."

Dean froze. _Crap. Have to head this off before Sam hears __**that**__. _"No freaking way." he snarled. "Sam isn't _crazy_. He is the smartest, sharpest, person I know, and he is _not crazy. _And he's not desperate enough to _fake it_ either, if that's what you're thinking."

The doctor took a step back, holding up his hands. "Mr. Black, please. I mean no offense, but things like this don't just _happen_. No one goes blind without a medical reason."

"Well, there's a first for everything." Dean responded. He took a step closer to the doctor, his eyes piercing. "Let's just get one thing straight. You _ever _mention that to Sam and you'll regret the day you were born and every day after. Understood?"

The doctor just nodded, hurrying away. "I'll just get in contact with some specialists."

Dean waited till the doctor was gone before he grinned. _Mission accomplished. Doctor scared to death, Sam safe and protected. Awesome._

...

The day passed by slowly.

Dean took Sam home and tried to keep him occupied. It was hard to find things to do that didn't involve sight in one way or another.

That's when Bobby officially became Dean's hero.

Having given up research that wasn't getting them anywhere, he had used his free time and managed to make (with great difficulty and no small amount of confusion and error) Sam's computer read him things out loud.

Sam was delighted and immediately set to work doing who knew what.

It only took an hour before Dean was just _itching_ to put holy water in Bobby's coffee, _just in case_, because there was no way the man wasn't a demon.

Sam had managed to make the computer read at least three times faster than it had been. Dean couldn't even understand what the darn thing was saying, but Sam was nodding every so often, listening intently, ocassionally giving a command.

It was grating and Dean was just about ready to _kill_ something.

Instead, he went outside and did a little bit of target practice.

His vivid imagination supplied a perfect image of Sam's computer over his target.

A tiny quirk of his lips and Dean fired.

...

"I found something."

Dean was too busy looking up in surprise and relief to be irritated at the surprise in the doctor's voice.

"An eye specialist contacted me this morning and said that he would like to see Sam. He gave me his number and asked that you call him and set up an appointment as soon as possible."

Dean felt Sam's hand brush his arm, clearly looking for him, trying to grab onto him. He grabbed onto Sam's arm. "See, Sammy. Told you! It'll all be okay."

...

Dean dialed the number of the eye specialist, pacing back and forth across Bobby's living room.

"Office of Dr. Gilbert, how may I help you?" The sweet voice of the receptionist asked smoothly.

"Hi, my name is Dean Black. I wanted to set up an appointment with Dr. Gilbert for my brother Sam."

"Oh, yes. Dr. Gilbert wanted to speak to you personally, Mr. Black. I'll patch you through to him."

Dean was rather taken aback by this, unsure if this was typical procedure or not, but just shrugged it off and went back to his pacing.

"Mr. Black! I was waiting for your call! I was wondering perhaps if you could answer a few questions for me before we set up an appointment. Your doctor couldn't tell me much and seemed quite confused." An older man's voice came over the phone, surprisingly energetic, sounding amused by their original doctor's confusion.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dean responded.

The doctor asked Dean several questions that were fairly routine, asking about Sam's medical history, if there was any history of eye problems in the past, if Sam had perhaps gotten something in his eyes or been exposed to dangerous chemicals, how long Sam had been blind, and so on.

Dean answered all of them (mostly) truthfully, editing out any information that would have cast suspicion on either of them.

"Okay, Dean, I think that's all my questions. Does Thursday at 2 sound okay to you?"

"Yeah, we'll be there."

"See you then! Have a nice day, Dean, and say hello to your brother for me."

_Wow. _Dean couldn't help but think. _There's one man who is __**way**__too happy for his own good._

And on the other end of the line, the doctor's once kind blue eyes grew hard and flashed black, his aged lips curling into an evil smirk.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey all! Here's the last chapter! I hope you enjoyed the story! Please review! I have a lot of different story ideas in the works. I'm not sure which one I want to go with. We'll have to see. I'm tossing about ideas for another visions story (I have vague ideas, nothing concrete yet, muse is stubborn at the moment). I have an idea for another story about Sam's powers (again, AU, which I seem to do a lot of) that I will definitely be writing eventually. I also have an idea (EPIC, I love this idea, can't wait to write it) for a de-aged Sam fic that I am quite excited about, but that might take me a while to write. If you have any questions or suggestions, please tell me and I will happily consider them! :) Thanks! :)

I also made a very small word change in the second chapter because a kind soul pointed out that "Dean" only has one syllable. ...I blame exhaustion. I do. :)

By the way, I know NOTHING about eye surgery (or any surgery for that matter). Everything in this chapter has just been pulled from my mind, so please excuse any inaccuracies. :)

* * *

The specialist, Dr. Gilbert, sat back in his chair, a frown on his face, gazing at Sam thoughtfully.

Sam could feel his gaze, despite not being able to see, and fidgeted nervously.

Dean's hand on his knee was subtle but calming. "So?" he asked after a moment.

Dr. Gilbert looked up at Dean. "I think I can help him. If you'll give me an hour to get ahold of a friend of mine, I believe that together we can do a corrective surgery and fix the problem."

Despite all the hope he'd been sustaining and fear he'd been containing, Dean was surprised. It took him a moment to manage. "You can? Really?"

Sam was sitting, wide-eyed, looking in Dr. Gilbert's general direction.

The specialist laughed. "Yes, I believe I can. There's a diner across the street if you'd like to go have a bite to eat. Come back here in about an hour and we'll be ready for you."

"Uh, yeah, yeah, we'll be right back." Dean grabbed Sam's arm, tugging on it lightly. "Come on, Sammy. Let's get."

He held Sam's arm subtly as they manuevered through the office and headed outside.

"Can you believe it, Sammy? The doc says he can fix this."

Sam was frowning though and Dean sighed. "What now?"

"Dean...something felt off in there. I mean...the doctor...I don't know. Something was off."

Dean snorted. "Sam, you were nervous as heck. I didn't notice anything off, kiddo." He reached across the table and patted Sam's hand. "Sammy, trust me, it'll all be okay. This specialist really seems to know what he's doing and in a few hours, you'll be able to see my gorgeous mug again."

The joke worked and Sam rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. "Crap, in that case, maybe we should call the specialist back and just say I'm not interested!"

Dean groaned, mock-hurt. "Oh, I'm hurt by that, Sammy. That's not very nice. Here I spent so much time getting all primped and proper for you and you don't even _want_ to see _this_."

"I suppose you're just too much pretty for one man, Dean." Sam managed through his laughter, his sarcasm clear in his tone.

Dean grinned. "That I am, Sammy, that I am. I suppose you're not half bad yourself there, kiddo."

Sam snorted. "Gee, thanks. You're too kind."

The waitress walked up to their table. "Sorry for the wait, gentlemen, what can I get for you?"

...

Dean walked Sam back into the doctor's office, where Dr. Gilbert was standing with another man, waiting for them.

Dr. Gilbert gestured to his friend, who shook Dean's hand, then managed to shake Sam's hand as well with a little difficulty. "I'm Dr. Smith. Nice to meet you both. This is our patient?" he asked.

Dr. Gilbert nodded. "Yes, that's Sam Black. He just suddenly went blind, totally out of the blue." The two shared a look that Dean wasn't quite sure how to interpret and Dr. Gilbert nodded briefly to his friend, who gave a tiny jerk of his head towards Dean. "Sam, I'm gonna take you through these doors into the back of the office. We have a very nice set-up back there. Even more comfortable than a hospital."

Sam nodded. Fear was clear in his eyes for his big brother to see.

Dean grabbed his arm. "You'll be okay, Sammy. I'll be right out here in the waiting room, okay? It'll be all good. See ya on the other side, kiddo."

Sam pulled Dean into a hug that Dean returned fiercely. "Promise?"

Dean struggled to speak past the lump of emotion in his throat. _Crap, kiddo. _"Yeah. I promise."

Sam turned towards the two doctors. Dr. Gilbert nodded briefly at Dean, then led Sam through the doors.

Dean sat down and settled in for a long wait.

...

Sam laid down on the cold table, trying to keep his fear at bay. Surrounded by strange noises and unseen equipment, the doctor's soft voices, it was all quite frightening.

"Okay, Sam. I'm going to put you under now. Just relax and count back from 10."

"10..."

_It'll be okay. Dean promised._

"9..."

_It'll be okay._

"8..."

_Dean promised._

"7..."

_Dean. _

"...6..."

Sam remembered no more.

...

_Should it be taking this long? How long would this crap normally take? Is it going well? Crap. Crap. _

Dean paced back and forth in the waiting room, his pace rather frantic.

He was pretty sure he was making the receptionist sick with all his repetitive motions.

He was having a hard time caring.

_Come on, Sammy. Come on. _

The doors swung open and Dean froze.

Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Smith both came through, Dr. Gilbert a step behind his friend.

They looked grim. Tired.

Dean felt his heart drop, taking a step towards them. _No. No. Sammy..._

Then Dr. Smith smiled. "Your brother is very stubborn. He pulled through, it went well. We'll have to wait till he wakes up to see if it worked, but my hopes are high."

Dr. Gilbert nodded.

"If you'd like I can show you to the room Sam's resting in. He should wake in the next couple of hours."

...

It was the longest two hours of Dean's life. Though he felt some measure of relief that Sam was alive and breathing, within arm's reach, he still felt nervous.

Had the surgery worked?

Was Sam going to get his sight back?

_Please. Help it to have worked. Please don't make me a liar. I promised him everything will be okay. I __**promised**__. _

Dean was pulled from his musings when Sam shifted slightly, an almost inaudible moan falling from his lips.

"Sammy? Come on, man, time to join the land of the living. Wakey, wakey."

Sam's eyes moved beneath his lids.

"Sam."

They fluttered open.

Dean stared at Sam. _The moment of truth. _He didn't even realize that he was holding his breath.

"Hey, beautiful." Sam croaked.

Dean froze.

Sam grinned.

Dean's eyes widened. "Sammy? You can..."

Sam nodded. "Bright and clear. Crap, it's good to see you, man!"

Dean pulled Sam into a hug, whooping loudly as soon as he released his baby brother. "Told you I looked all pretty today." Dean joked.

"Well...no offense, but you're not my type."

Dean pouted, but he couldn't hold the look and his face soon split into a wide grin. He strode over to the door. "Hey, doc! It worked! Sam's awake and he can see!"

A moment later, Dr. Smith came striding in. "Dr. Gilbert had a family emergency. He had to run."

The man smiled at Sam. "Well, Sam. Let's take a look."

Dr. Smith did a quick check up, quickly announcing everything right with the youngest Winchester.

"Well, Mr. Black. I see no reason why you can't go." Dr. Smith informed the two brothers.

Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Let's get then, Sammy!"

...

Sam walked towards the car, his brother at his side, his eyes roaming around, taking everything in. After so long of nothing but blackness, the colors and shapes and _light_ just all seemed so bright and so _much_...

Sam was fairly sure he had never been happier to see the Impala than he was right then. _Home sweet home. _He sighed contentedly.

Dean slammed his own door shut, turning the car on, switching the music on, already tapping his fingers with the beat.

Sam glanced in the side mirror, noticing Dr. Smith standing at the door watching them leave. He stiffened suddenly.

Dean noticed the movement.

"What? Sam? You okay?" he sounded instantly concerned.

"I...yeah, I just...I could have sworn I just saw Smith's eyes go _yellow_."

Dean gave him a concerned look. "Yellow?"

"Yeah."

"What? You think it was a demon?"

Sam frowned, shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe?"

"It must have been your imagination. I mean. Come on, Sam. How many demons have yellow eyes? And why would a demon help you get your sight back? That doesn't even make any sense. You're probably still high on those drugs the doc gave you." Dean teased, turning his attention back to the road.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the front of the car, but his mind was still spinning over what he had seen. _Yeah, a demon __**wouldn't**__ help me get my eyesight back. Unless...unless I'm worth more to them whole._

Sam shook his head, forcing the grim thoughts to the back of his mind. _Dean's right. I'm probably still high. _

Sam snorted.

_At least I hope I am. _


End file.
